Sawdust in his Shoes
by Shazrolane
Summary: Courage doesn't mean you're never scared. Courage means doing what you have to, even when you're scared. Clint Barton spent many of his formative years in a circus, as a runaway from the system and the law. He's got a lot of stories to tell from that time, and sometimes, in the dead of night, he shares them. Please watch rating of each chapter for violence/adult situations
1. Chapter 1

Sawdust in his Shoes

Chapter 1 - Clint likes Doritos. So do ostriches. These things are related.

Clint leaned forward in the chair, staring off into the corner of the room, a slight grin on his face.

"So, this one time, when I was new at the circus and too scrawny to do much, I was helpin' Mike set up a mobile fence for the ostriches, and these two pieces of fencin' had been tied together with baling twine. The knot was all fucked up and it wouldn't come loose, so I wanted the screwdriver to work at the knot. Mike threw it and I missed the catch and the screwdriver hit me right in the finger, still got the scar, see?" He held the hand out for inspection. "So I start swearin' and Mike comes over and wants to look at where I'm bleeding. I tell him off because seriously, I'm seeing bone! So he cuts the twine, sticks the screwdriver into the place where we were supposed to put the pin, and drags me off to go see Pat, who was kinda our nurse. She stitches me up and everything's fine, right?"

"Only what we both forgot was that the screwdriver handle was red. Now I'm guessin' at some of this, but I know some birds like chickens and I guess ostriches really like red. So the ostriches are peckin' at this damn screwdriver, and they manage to pull it out, so that fence panel falls over. So Mike and I are heading back and we hear some screams but we just look at each other and shrug because we've got shit to do, and for once we're being responsible."

"We get to the pen, we see the fallen panels and no fuckin' ostriches. We both start running towards where we heard the screaming and sure as shit, there's ostriches wandering around the midway. And of course there's people chasin' them, which is going about as well as you'd expect. Ostriches are running and crashin' into people. Half of the kids are screamin' because they're scared, and the other half think this is the best thing ever. Parents are pushin' strollers like they're in the Daytona 500, chicks are hidin' behind their dudes and there's some dudes hidin' behind their chicks. I saw one woman push three kids and a guy behind her and then she stood her ground, poppin' an umbrella in one ostrich's face. It stops in its tracks, spins and starts headin' the other way. There's popcorn flyin' everywhere, half the stuffed animals from one of the games are on the ground because some dude is tryin' to climb the walls, there's powdered sugar on everything."

"Obviously chasin' them wasn't gonna work, so I started thinking about catching chickens when was I still living at the Wilkerson's. You chase chickens, they're gonna run and fly until they squeeze into some spot you can't get to. But if you sit still and give them food, they'll eventually walk right up to you. So I run up to Carson, who says hello to me the way he usually did." Clint puffs his chest out and raises the pitch of his voice just a bit, "Pigeon, care to explain any of this to me?"

"So I say to him 'It's just like chickens, boss. We gotta stop chasin' them and let them calm down, then give them some food and they'll walk right in that pen." He looks at me for this really long minute, then he grabs his bull horn and yells into it 'EVERYONE STOP MOVING NOW!' Now you gotta know, this guy was the ringmaster. He had that Voice that made everyone listen and damned if they didn't stop runnin', for the most part. Then he says, calmly 'I need guests to move into the big tent. Employees, form a line around the south end of the games and food.' It took a bit, but everyone did what he said. Meanwhile, I'm runnin' to one of the food trailers that sells stuff, and I'm grabbing every bag of Dorito's I can find."

"Why Doritos? I don't know, everyone likes Doritos, right? I like 'em. Horses like 'em. The giraffe liked 'em. It's the one thing we always sold out of. So we always bought extra and this time we had a ton of them layin' around. So I pour out a few piles of Doritos in the place we've sort of staked out as the ostrich containment zone, and then we sit tight."

"We wait for half an hour and the ostriches stop runnin' around and start eatin' the Doritos and drinkin' from the duck race troughs. I get in place and Carson tells everyone 'Walk in a fence like fashion.' So we've got all the roustabouts, the carnies, the food sellers and the performers, walkin' along. Half the performers are in their practice clothes which were usually old performance costumes, so this is like some demented parade. Meanwhile, I'm in the front, layin' down Doritos. Sure enough, eventually the ostriches start peckin' at the Doritos. And things are goin' good, right? Because they're followin' me."

"Yeah, you guessed it. This is about the time they figure out that I've got the Doritos, and I'm a hell of a lot smaller than they are. So this big male spreads his wings out, HONKS at me, I swear to you, and he comes right at me. I turn and run as fast as I can, but they're still comin'. So I'm runnin', and screamin' at Mike 'Get the gate!' I look back, and I got the entire crew chasin' after these damn birds, only there's no way they're close enough to help me, right?"

"About that time, the ostriches catch up with me, and they're peckin' me all to hell and back. Those beaks are big, and even bigger when you're small, you know? I dump the chips out on the ground, but it's like these things have smelled blood and now they ain't gonna stop until they get some."

"So I get this crazy idea. I grab some stupid toy off of a souvenir cart, something with a pole and this little bird thing that's supposed to look like it's flying at the end of the pole. I stick the bright red Dorito bag over the end of the pole. I put one foot on this little tiny ledge at the bottom of the cart, and I push off, and jump onto the back of one of the males. He starts spinning around, trying to get to me, and I wave the Dorito bag on the pole in his face."

"Damned if he doesn't stop goin' after me, and start goin' after the bag. So now he's runnin' as fast as he can, tryin' to get the bag that I'm holdin' out in front of him. I look back, and I got the whole flock followin' me. I'm like the freakin' Pied Piper of ostriches. I can kind of get the one I'm ridin' to turn left, 'cause that's the hand I'm holdin' it in, but if I try to move it to the right, it just sort of pushes him in the face and he gets mad at me and starts honkin' again."

"So I'm leadin' him through the whole grounds, only makin' left turns, with the flock followin' me. Anytime I have to make a big left circle to end up going right, the rest of the flock catches up and starts peckin' at the Dorito bag. So I'm tryin' to steer my ostrich, and at the same time it's the weirdest imitation of jousting that you've ever seen."

"Well it seemed like forever, but it was probably only five minutes or so, before I finally manage to get into the ostrich pen. Then I have to keep my bird runnin' around in a circle while the rest of the birds kind of trickle in to the pen. We finally get them all in, and shut the gate and get the fallen fence piece in and secured. And everyone starts cheerin' and shit, but here I am still stuck on the ostrich. So I finally just throw the pole as far away from me as I can, and jump and roll right out underneath the fence."

"So that's what I think about every time I eat Doritos. How much ostriches like them, and how I managed to get hen pecked and be a sort of celebrity in the circus at the same time."

As Clint's voice, rough from hours of stories, fell silent, he could once again hear the nurses' quiet conversation at the desk.

He leaned forward, just enough to rest his forehead against her shoulder, as the ventilator became the loudest sound in the room once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sawdust in his Shoes

Chapter 2 Bread and Circuses

"They're saying that the bleedin' is slowin' down." He looked up from his feet and took a deep breath. "But they're telling me that you might not recover. They tried to run me off for a bit, but I think I finally got 'em to understand that it wasn't happenin'. But that fuckin' ventilator creeps me the hell out. I hate how it sounds, so I'm gonna keep talkin'."

"Everyone's always surprised by this, but one of the things that I loved the most about the circus was how much routine there was. Most days were pretty much the same. It the first time I had somethin' like that."

"When we showed up at a new spot, the caravans, sorry, the campers and RV's would form up in what we called the backyard. Everyone always parked in the same spots. I mean, Ron was always next to Sally with her performin' birds, Madame Zanzibar was always next to Marcela, the Bearded Lady. Stuff like that. So even though we mighta drove a few hundred miles, it was like we were back in our own little town, you know?"

"The animal handlers would pull those trucks and trailers up into another separate area. Darko would get Marlene and Peanut, those were our elephants, out of their box truck. They'd go get the canvas for the big tent outta that truck and carry it in their trunks over to where it needed to be. Then the girls, sorry, the women, would spread it out on the ground. I dunno why it was always the women who did that…"

"So anyway, this was after I graduated from settin' up the animal fences to helpin' set up the big tent. About all I could do at set up was to fetch the stakes, and then I held 'em while Gary or Marconi pounded them in. They swung the hammer in huge circles behind and then up over their heads. They hit that stake perfect, right on the head every single time. Still scared the shit outta me for the longest time."

"First couple of times, I dropped the stake and backed up, kinda scramblin' backwards, you know what I mean? They got frustrated, then mad. Finally Carson came out and helped. I dunno if I told you this or not, but he was a small guy. Bigger than one of them, whaddya call 'em, little people? Bigger than that, but not by much. So yeah, here's this little guy, holdin' the stakes for Marconi, who was huge, and he never flinches, and Marconi never misses."

"So Carson pulls me over and says 'Courage doesn't mean you're never scared. Courage means doing what you have to, even when you're scared. Have you ever done what you needed to do, when you were scared?' I can't tell him 'bout Wilkerson, he'd hate me, right? But yeah, that was what I thought of. So I says 'Yeah.' And he smiles at me, and says 'Go be brave, and help.' So what could I do? I held that damned stake."

"This whole time, the rest of the performers would be settin' up a few smaller poles around one edge of the big tent. Darko would bring in one of the elephants, usually Marlene, with a large leather strap across her chest. I never knew why, but I loved watching those elephants. Marlene was bigger, like this movin' mountain, but she never got tangled in the chains. They'd get all up around her legs, but she'd just pick up a back foot, step over it just as smooth as you or me would do. Maybe that's why I liked her; she was so big and so strong, but so gentle."

Clint was lost in thought for a while, then shook his head and continued on.

"She'd move to the base of the tall pole. As soon as it was hooked to the chains, she'd walk forward, draggin' the bottom of the pole along the ground. The top was already attached to the canvas, so that pole just pushed itself and the canvas up into the air. Neatest trick you ever saw. Meanwhile Darko's daughter Svana would be doing the same with Peanut. It wouldn't take long for all four of the big poles to be set up."

"After that, they'd take the elephants off to help raise the other tents, for the animals, and the cook tent and stuff. The small poles would get set up around the edge, and Marconi and I would stake 'em down with these thick nylon straps. In a few hours, this empty field would be our circus, with the big tent and banners and the side show. It always made me feel like I was part of something important."

"But the best part of every set up was that Madame Zanzibar, our fortune teller, would bake bread. A few hours after we pulled into place, the smell of fresh bread would be spreadin' all over the site. You could even smell it over the manure."

"I was a dumb shit, so the first few times I tried to steal some bread. Somehow she would always know where I was, and she'd smack me with her cane. She was this tiny little thing, but man she could leave a bruise!" Clint chuckled at the memory.

"What I eventually figured out was that if I offered to help her set up her camp, or fetch water for her or somethin' like that, she'd give me a slice or two of the bread. And she had this homemade jam that she'd put on it. That bread and jam was, it like the best thing I'd ever eaten. I'd find a safe spot, up high, and just cram the bread into my mouth."

"If we stayed at a location more than a week, she'd bake again. Didn't take me long to learn her schedule, so I started hangin' around her RV. So one day, she invites me in, sayin' her arthritis was botherin' her somethin' fierce, and she can't knead the bread. I wasn't too sure 'bout getting' in the caravan with her, but she was this tiny, old woman whose hands hurt. It was probably safe…"

"I'm thinkin' 'bout what Carson told me 'bout courage, so slink into her caravan. It's small, a lot like the one me and Barney and our old man lived in."

"I lasted less than five minutes that day. But I tried again, and again, and eventually, I did it, with Madame Zanzibar always sitting at the table at the far end of the space at her table. I always worked at the kitchen counter. And I learned a lot from her."

"I learned how to measure the flour." Clint's voice changed, became higher pitched, with a touch of an Eastern European accent, "_Use the spoon to put it in the cup, boy, don't just scoop it_!" He grinned, then continued. "She taught me how to proof the yeast in water that was just the right temperature, and how to measure honey without it stickin' in the cup or spoon. I learned how to handle the dough right when I was kneadin' it, and how to stretch it and roll it. I learned that this was somethin' I could do. That she believed in me, when a whole lotta other people hadn't."

"The dough had to rise twice, and then bake, so there was a lot of time when I didn't need to be workin' directly on the dough. That was when she taught me how to sew sequins back onto costumes, or how to repaint faded sign boards. And…"

"I learned fractions and math by addin' and subtractin' and countin' cups and half cups and three-quarters of a cup. I learned to tell time on her clock by watchin' and waitin' and kneadin'. I learned biology and chemistry and…

His voice grew quiet. "I learned that there was somethin' nice in just being in the presence of another person. Someone who needed _my_ help. When it was cold, those were the only times I was truly warm. Sometimes, neither one of us talked the whole time. It was a warm, comfortable, safe place."

"Madame Zanzibar would let me make two loaves, and take one for me. The bread usually lasted me three days; it would have lasted longer, but I always shared with Marlene and Peanut."

Bread and circuses; a sense of belonging and comfort. He'd found it again with her.

Damned if he was going to lose it.


	3. Chapter 3

Now that the respirator had been removed, the room was even quieter than before. Clint didn't last long before he started talking again. "Doctors say since you've made it this long, you're gonna live. They're still thinkin' you might be…your brain might be…" he took a deep breath. "Well, you're gonna be fine. They know medicine, but I know you. You're gonna be fine."

He sat in a silence for another moment, then spoke again.

"Okay, so there was this clown named Ron. And he had this act with cats, a bunch of them. So he'd be all dressed up in his makeup, and this one cat would climb up him and stand on his head. So he'd stand there, lookin' all surprised, and then another cat would climb up him and stand on his shoulder. And then he'd bend over and this third cat would jump up on his back. And then the fourth cat and the fifth one would jump up, but the others were jumpin' down while the new ones were jumpin' up.

"So then it would turn into this whole almost acrobatic thing, with cats jumpin' all over the place, and standin' on their hind legs, and climbing up him. And fer the grand finale, all five of 'em would jump or climb up him, and he just stood there, smilin' and bowin', and all five cats was just as calm as could be."

"So, I needed to learn how to juggle, 'cause I needed some more money to pay back Victor. And I figure, Ron trains _cats_. This guy's gotta be the most patient guy in the whole circus, right? And he really likes his cats; they live with him in his trailer, but it never smells like cat piss, 'cause he cleans it twice a day. And he's got this whole screened in porch contraption that he's built, so the cats can come in or out whenever they want."

"So I'm thinkin', if there's one guy in this whole circus who's probably not gonna end up yellin' or hittin' me when I fuck up, it's Ron. So I go ask him if he can teach me to juggle."

"Now, the first thing he says is, if I need money he'll lend me some. But then I'd end up owin' him, and no matter how many times people say they don't care, they do. Nothin' good ever came of owin' someone."

"It's different with you, so don't think I mean that. You and me…"

"Well anyway, so Ron says he'll teach me. And he goes in the trailer and comes out, 'cause I'm still standin' outside his screen porch, of course, and he hands me this little bean bag, and says throw it from one hand into the other. So I do."

"He goes into this whole discussion about how I had to look to catch the bag, and you can't do that, right? You gotta be able to throw the bag the same way every time, so it ends up in the same place every time, so you don't gotta look for it or move your hand for it. Your catchin' hand just opens up, and the bag lands in it. So he sends me off to practice until I can do that."

"Well I spent somethin' like three hours that day, practicin' until I could do it perfect like. Then I come back to him the next day and I tell him I'm ready for the next part. He ain't believin' me, I can tell, so I show him."

"He just blinks, then smiles and tells me 'That's really good!'. I ain't heard that in...well I don't even know. Since Gary told me that for not messin' up once holdin' stakes for him when we were puttin' up the big tent. And he only said that once, you know? Once you get somethin' right, from then on you gotta keep gettin' it right every single time, or then you get yelled at. But Ron was never like that. He always told me 'Good job,' every single time."

"So every day Ron would teach me somethin' new, and I'd go off to practice. And a week later, he says I'm good enough to do some buskin', only I'm gonna need a costume. He takes me to the clown trailer, and digs through this box and pulls out all the costumes that're too worn out and stuff. And I ain't told no one at the circus how I don't see colors like they do, 'cause I'm still thinkin', well never mind what I thought. So I see this purple shirt with sequins, and it's the brightest thing I ever seen, and I love it."

"He works with Madame Zanzibar, and they get this shirt and a pair of pants to fit me, and Ron buys me a brand new pair of purple and white shoes. I cleaned the litter boxes in his trailer for a month to pay him back for those, but it was worth it. I felt like one of the stars, all dressed up in spangles."

"I went out that afternoon buskin', and it was the first time in I don't know how long that I was lookin' fer attention. I found this place where people used to hang out, in front of the big tent, right before we opened it up for performances, and I did this little jugglin' act."

Clint laughed. "That first time, I think I got mebbe a dollar. So fer the whole next week Ron comes out with me and shows me how to work the crowd, get them laughin', and how to get them to give you some money. You gotta kinda convince them that they're payin' for somethin', that there's some reason for them to give you the money. We ain't thinkin' the real reason is gonna go over so well, so we come up with this story about how I wanna buy a bike, and my daddy says I gotta learn the value of money, so I gotta earn it."

"We split the money we earned, then I was on my own. First night, I got $10 bucks, and I was hooked. I started learnin' every trick I could, started watchin' the other clowns and practicin' their tricks. Ron got me some books, and I never told him I couldn't read 'em, but I studied those pictures and figured stuff out."

"Then one day Ron took a bunch of the circus kids to go see a movie, about some girl tryin' to rescue her kid brother from a goblin king. And there was this scene where this guy moves this crystal ball around, making it float and roll over his hands and arms. And I was hooked. Ron found me this rubber ball so I could try the moves he'd done in the movie. I snuck into that theater so many times while we were in that town, so I could see that scene, and I'd practice for hours until I figured it out. And it's so much more than a physical skill."

"I learned sleight of hand, and misdirection, and how to keep their eyes where I wanted 'em. I learned how to make people think what I wanted 'em to think, and how to react how I wanted 'em to react. I learned who I could talk to, and joke with, and which stories made people laugh, and which ones made 'em uncomfortable."

"Contact jugglin' is how I learned people, and learnin' people let me perform. I was lookin' fer new props for my jugglin' that day I ended up with Trickshot's bow, and that was, well we both know where what that led to."

"But it started with some cats, and a guy who was crazy enough to think he could train them, and patient enough to do it."

Clint took out an old rubber ball, and started practicing some tricks he hadn't worked on for years. There was no crowd to practice his patter for, and no need to be perfect. The only audience he had was someone who had rarely judged him.

He practiced for hours, until it was time for him to go for the night. He smoothed her hair back from her face, and tucked the ball under her lax hand. He turned the light off as he left the room.

In the glow from the machines, some faint lines could be seen on the ball. They spelled out the letters R-N.


	4. Chapter 4

"So what's that mean, doc?" he asked.

The doctor said, "It means her brain activity is becoming more normal."

"And that means…" he prompted.

The doctor pursed her lips and finally said, "We expect her to start waking for short periods of time. It hasn't happened yet, and she certainly won't be fully conscious, but we think she's coming out of the coma."

Clint grinned. "I knew that, just wanted you to hear yourself saying it. Now try, 'You were right, Agent Barton."

The doctor pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm still going to caution you not to get your hopes up too much. The kind of injury that she sustained-"

"Yeah yeah yeah," Clint interrupted. "You just keep doing what you're doing, and let me do the rest." He shooed the doctor out the door, and closed it behind her, before returning to his chair near the bedside.

"I think I told you about me pickin' up Trick's bow...maybe I didn't."

Clint was quiet for a moment. "Guess it won't hurt if you hear it again. If it makes you mad, I'll buy you summa that fancy ice cream, okay?"

"Like I said, I was lookin' for things I could use for my act. I snuck into the prop trailer, and played around with a bunch of the stuff I found. I can't even remember what most of it was. It was mostly dark in there - the only light was from the open door.

"It was the middle of summer, and it had been one of those days when the sun is poundin' down. Every step was raisin' dust from the ground, and it...I don't know how t'say it, other than it even smelled hot."

"It was evenin' by the time I got inside the trailer, but it was still just about hot enough t'bake bread. The sweat was pourin' down my back, and in my face."

"I was gonna keep lookin' for just a few more minutes, and then I saw this old bow. Barney and I had shot some when we was growin' up, rabbits and squirrels mostly, stuff we could eat. I'd mostly used a wrist rocket, but we'd both used the old man's bow some. So I figured I'd give it a try. Found some arrows, grabbed the bow, and got outta there."

"I went out back behind the elephants with a feed sack. Stuffed it full of the straw and shavings and manure I'd mucked outta the bull pen that mornin', sat it up against a tree, and started shootin' at it." He laughed ruefully. "So the first few times, I was shootin' atta sack of shit. Didn't hit it the first time. But by the time it was too dark t'shoot, I was hittin' it pretty consistently."

"Didn't have no glove, so I tore my fingers up a bit, but I was pretty used to that sorta thing. I'd been doin' a lot of work 'round the circus. If you ain't skilled labor, then you're usin' your hands a lot, so I had some pretty good calluses goin'."

"I liked how it felt, bein' able to hit that target. Kinda like jugglin', like hittin' a trick just right, only for some reason this felt even better. So I kept doin' it, stealin' an hour or such every day."

"That's how I got caught. I was gettin' better, a lot better, but I still lost a few arrows. That first month, I spent more time lookin' for lost arrows than I did shootin' arrows, but every once in a while I couldn't find one. It started addin' up. Buck finally started noticin'."

"Now Buck, he's got a temper on him, so he catches me at dinner the next night and starts yelling' at me. The' only reason he ain't doing' worse, I'm figurin', is because it IS dinner, and everyone's there. So Carson steps in, and asks me why I'm doin' it, and I'm thinkin' 'bout feedin' him some bullshit line, but for some reason, I don't. I tell him the truth, that it just feels right."

"So he asks Buck if I can be in the act! I'm figurin' I'm in for a beatin' for sure now, 'cause Buck's madder'n hell. He starts in how he can't have some child who can't hit the bull's eye reliably, and Carson just cuts him off."

Clint had a look of awe on his face, lost in the memory. "Carson barely came up to Buck's elbows, and here he is cuttin' him off. Never raises his voice, never gets mad, but he's got the respect of everyone and fuckin' Buck _listens_ to him. Carson asks what I would have to do to get in the act."

"Buck huffs and bluffs and shit, but eventually he says I'd have to hit the bullseye on ten different targets. So Carson nods and tells me that when I can do that, to come back and tell him."

"I'm thinkin', holy shit. I'm excited, 'cause this is my chance t'be a performer, not just crew. And I'm scared shitless, 'cause I know I've just made an enemy. I was right, too, 'cause Buck did everythin' he could t'make my life miserable. Garbage cans got knocked over, so I had t'pick up the garbage with my hands. My blankets got put in elephant shit more'n once. Got my bread stole, missed the dinner call a few times, that sort of thing, nothing' major."

"And before you even start on how Carson shoulda stopped it, I never told 'im. Didn't have no proof it was Buck, and besides, man don't get no respect by always gettin' someone else t'solve his problems. 'Sides, I'd been through worse, I could handle this."

"So I kept practicin'. Slept with that bow at night, t'keep it from bein' stolen, and hid it durin' the day. Never you mind where, guy's gotta have SOME secrets!"

"It's fall, and we're heading' south when I come up to Carson at dinner and tell him I'm ready t'shoot in the ring. He just nods, and says 'In a bit, Pigeon."

"After dinner, him and Buck, and by this point the story's spread so half the crew's there, too, well we all go out back where I got ten feed sacks all set up in two long lines. I walk down the middle, shootin' as I walk, and I hit all ten, dead center."

"Buck starts up how this is boring, no one will like it, IF I can hit all ten all the time then MAYBE it'd be good for when folks is comin' in, sitting' down, that kinda thing. Carson starts noddin'."

"So I says for 'em to hold just a bit, and I'm back in a minute, riding one of Elizabeth's horses. I got the horse goin' at this slow canter, and I know they can hear it. As soon as we turn the corner, I stand up in the trick saddle and pull out the bow."

He grinned and moved one of his socked feet from where it rested on the side of her bed to nudge her hip. "You didn't think it took me three months just t'learn how t'shoot, didja?"

"I didn't hit the bullseye on every one. Truth is, didn't hit bullseye on any of 'em. But I hit every damn target and then did a back flip off the horse."

"Everyone was cheerin' and clappin', and Carson's got a smile on his face. He says, 'That's the start of a damned fine act,' or somethin' like that. 'We'll try you out on afternoon shows.' Buck's behind him, lookin' like he's ready t'shit bricks."

"But I didn't care. I just got promoted to bein' a performer. I did somethin' that made Carson proud."

"Best damned day of my life, for a long time." There was a beat of silence. "Day you wake up is gonna top it."

He rested his head on her pillow, just touching her forehead. The silence beat down on them, like the sun on a hot summer's day.


End file.
